


Fledgling In My Nest

by Lonely_Deer



Category: Spies in Disguise
Genre: Walter needs love and support okay, but then there's lots of fluff to make up for it, its just a bunch of soft snuggling and a bunch of angst bro, there's actually way more angst than i anticipated sorryyyy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:28:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22025581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lonely_Deer/pseuds/Lonely_Deer
Summary: Following after Marcy and Joy's brief kidnapping of our super-spy duo, the trio embark on a quest back to Walter's house (or at least what's left of it) and find that the home is more damaged than they can try to repair. With Walter heartbroken, and Marcy and Lance feeling sick to their stomachs, sometimes all someone really needs is a nice long hug.
Relationships: Father and Son bonding time - Relationship, Lance & Walter, Walter/Lance shippers don't interact, platonic - Relationship
Comments: 47
Kudos: 154





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, I noticed that the DadSterling fandom had very little content, so I wanted to contribute. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> *<\-- This means that I actually have no clue what I'm talking about, I'm just going by what seems logical to me, so please don't take any of it as truth!

The large projected screen at the front of the van fizzled out, and with a soft click the face of Joy had disappeared and cast the three agents into an excited, buzzing silence.

"So." Marcy began, "Where to now, boys? Any destinations in mind?"

The young inventor raised his hand slowly and timidly, the wonderful excitement fluttering around his chest sinking into a heavy dread at the bottom of his stomach. "Yeah," he spoke quietly "I have somewhere I'd like to go."

Alerted by the sudden sombre-ness in the young adult's voice, Lance felt instant concern for his new found ward-figure. "You okay, Kid? A few seconds ago you looked like you might cry from happiness, but now you look like you might just cry. Everything all right?"

Walter looked up cautiously into Lance's eyes, afraid to make eye-contact, and began typing in the co-ordinates to his home.

Several minutes later, the van came to a halt outside of what the group could only presume is the destination Walter had typed in, and Marcy, Lance and Walter all climbed out of the back to take a look at the outside world.

When the two eldest of the trio looked at the ruined house in front of them, they could only stare in confusion and anxiety, due to the worry of why Walter would want to come and find this house. Lance realised rather quickly that this house had once been Walter's, and had obviously been destroyed when the agency had attempted to capture Lance. A sick feeling quickly gathered in his stomach, and the once ex-super-spy now agency leader looked to where Marcy was walking, but no signs of understanding had crossed her face yet.

Lance simply sighed, and walked a little bit faster to try and catch up with Walter, who had practically already made his way to the front doorstep of the broken home.

After a few tries, the boy had finally managed to shift enough rubble from the behind the door by pushing all his weight against it, and was able to open the door and cautiously creep inside.

Lance's heart began to beat harder and faster, the sick feeling getting stronger by the second as he tried to gauge the emotions Walter might be feeling right then.

Marcy still had no idea why Walter would need to come visit this place, after all of the stress of raiding here she didn't exactly have the time nor emotional capacity to stay and find out who had resided in it, but as time went on she began to feel more and more morbidly curious.

Walter just kept on trudging through the rubble and the broken possessions strewn about the floor, with his heart sinking lower and feeling more hopeless the further into his home he went. He looked around at the walls, seeing hollow caverns broken into them by the use of explosions, and looked at the charred dust and ashes staining the floors and ceiling, ashes that had also been a result of the immense levels of violence that had been used.

He walked a little further in, remembering in a fright-filled and panic stricken moment, that the shrine he had built for his mother would most likely not be intact.

He began to pick up his pace, making his way around until he found the place he was looking for, and stumbled towards the broken mess of shattered glass and torn pictures, and looked down at the wounded form of the folded flag and shattered mug that lay on the floor haphazardly. After a few seconds of assessing the damage, the young man felt an involuntary heaviness in his body that caused him to move towards the ground.

He knelt down, gently picking up the flag and staring at it for a few moments, before he curled into himself and let out a quiet and pain-stricken whimper as the sobs wracked his wiry frame.

Lance instantly felt bile rise in his throat, and he turned around quickly at the muffled sound of someone gagging behind him, and was met with the sight of Marcy holding her fist to her mouth and willing tears not to fall.

He shuffled a bit closer to her, wincing at the sound of more glass cracking and Walter's torn breathing, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulders to keep her steady.

The agent turned to look up at Lance, and with a thickness in her voice she told him: "Please tell me I didn't destroy an orphan's only home. Please tell me I didn't do that." 

Lance only brought her closer to his chest, and held her there for a few seconds as she finally began to let a few choked and guilt ridden tears fall. 

The taller of the two stepped back, slowly letting his hand fall off her shoulders, before turning around and walking back over to the agonised kid currently on the floor.

Lance crouched down carefully next to the suffering boy, slowly moving an arm out towards him to try and ease the aching crying coming from him, but was instead met with the pressure of Walter throwing himself into Lance's arms.

The older man gently wrapped his arms around the shaking boy against his chest, and rested his head atop the messy mop of hair underneath him. The feeling and the sound of Walter crying against him was more than enough to make tears of his own fall, and Lance began to softly sway a bit, hoping the movement might sooth the poor thing. 

More smothered sobs rattled against Lance's chest, and Walter's crying seemed to only ease minutely at the repetitive movements, but it was an improvement nonetheless. Lance continued to move methodically, and began to rub his hands up and down Walter's back in a motion he hoped to be comforting. This seemed to be the right thing to do, as Walter's cries became more hushed.

A few moments later, the young man cautiously pulled himself slightly out of his mentor's grip, and began to wipe at his face while apologising. "Sorry, Lance. I didn't mean to just break down on you like that." Lance was unsure of how to react, and so he gently tilted the boy's face upwards in order to get him to understand the sincerity of his next words:

"Hey, hey. Kid- it's alright for you to feel things right now. It's perfectly normal for you feel upset, angry, or even scared about the situation. You've just lost something important to you, and if I was in your situation I'm pretty sure I would be furious right now." He gently rubbed his thumbs on the boy's cheeks, attempting to wipe some of the tear tracks away.

"Being angry only gets more people hurt. I don't like being angry, I don't like hurting people." The young inventor slowly began to untangle himself from his new guardian, keeping his eyes trained on his hands and knees, that are undoubtedly bleeding because of all of the glass.

As if on cue, a sympathetic wince came from Lance the moment the palm's of Walter's hands became visible, and all of the cuts and scratches littering them had now been revealed.

"We should probably go and get ourselves cleaned up, pretty sure we've both got shards of glass stuck in our trousers." Lance suggested, hoping to lighten the mood somewhat.

However, that wasn't the case when Walter suddenly remembered that he needed to find his clothes, and was once again roaming through the ruins to find what he could.

Lance stepped back towards Marcy, debating whether or not it would be a good idea to ask Walter if he needed any help to find what he was looking for.

"So," a sniff put a pause in Marcy's musings. "What are we gonna do about him then, huh? We can't leave him here, and sure as hell can't just dump him at the Agency. So which one of us is gonna take him home?"

Lance snorted. "When you put it like that you make him sound like he's some kind of stray."

Marcy gestured around them vaguely. "Is he not basically a stray, right now? I mean, he has no one to look after him, he has no home now, and most of everything he owned seems to be pretty much ruined."

As if on cue, Walter came back to the two adults, holding two flannel shirts, a pair of trousers and his toy unicorn, that now had several tears, burn holes and a lot of dust on it. The state of his little companion must have caused him further distress while he was searching, as he once more had tears welling up in his eyes as he kept his eyes cast on the floor, and sniffling mournfully.

He looked exactly like a lost, miserable child, and Lance felt multiple paternal instincts kick in all at once.

"Hey, kid." Lance said, bending down slightly to try and catch Walter's eyes. "What would you say to coming over and staying at mine tonight, and then we can start getting all of this mess sorted in the morning?"

Walter looked up, a small glimmer of what Lance could only pray was hope in his eyes, and said quietly: "I don't want to get in your way, I'll probably just be a nuisance."

Lance felt the pang strike his chest again, and he attempted to reassure the kid. "I'm sure you wouldn't be a nuisance, Walter. And besides, my house is plenty big enough so I'm pretty sure if we wanted to avoid each other we could, easily."

This seemed to make the hope Walter felt stronger, as he asked Lance in a soft, awed voice: "Really? It- you don't think that it- that I would be an issue?"

The super spy could only agree. "Of course, kid. Won't be an issue at all."

Walter looked up at Lance, his eyes shining with un-shed tears, hope and adoration, and he yet again moved himself so that he was hugging the older man.

Lance let out a soft chuckle, and once more wrapped his arms around the small boy, bringing a hand up to bury in his hair and consequently bring Walter closer to him. The borderline feral parental instincts kicked in again, and Lance was finding himself astonished at how quickly Walter had been able to pull at Lance's feelings like this.

A quiet cough from beside them brought the pair out of their little father-son bubble, and Marcy apologised for disrupting, before apologising very sincerely for having caused so much damage to Walter and his home. "I'm so sorry, Walter. I should have realised that my team was being unnecessarily destructive. I'm sorry we did this to you."

The boy took a few wobbly steps towards Marcy, and after a few seconds of hesitation he quickly wrapped himself around her in a hug, and reassured her that he felt no ill-will towards her. "It's okay. You were just doing what you thought was right."

Marcy could only shake her head in disbelief. "You're too good for this world, Walter."Lance hummed in agreement. "I second that."

Walter looked back at the floor, bashfully this time rather than sorrowfully, and muttered a quiet "Thanks, guys."

Lance carefully lifted a hand and placed it on Walter's narrow shoulders, and said: "No problem kid. Now, is there anything else you want to look for? Or should we get going back to mine."

The young man sniffled, and slowly shook his head. "No, I think I've got everything I need now." He patted his trouser pocket, making sure he still had his wallet. "Yeah, we can go now."

As the trio exited the ruined living room, Walter carefully picked up the broken picture of his mother, and a few of the shards of mug. He knew they'd be back in the morning for anything else Walter wanted, but he felt like these things were too important to leave behind for now.

After leaving the young inventor's home and making their ways to the black van still parked out front, the three clambered into the back and typed in the co-ordinates to Lance Sterling's private home.

Once the van had stopped, and the back doors had opened, Lance, Marcy and Walter exited the vehicle and made their ways towards the house.

Did I say house? Oh, I meant mansion.

An awestruck "WOOOAAAAHH." Came from their youngest companion, and Lance had to try his best to fight off a proud smirk.

Lance dropped behind to walk beside the young man, feeling pride swelling in his chest. "So, you like the place, huh kiddo?"

Walter skipped slightly in his step, showing his excitement. "You kidding? This is awesome! I didn't realises place this big existed as living spaces! I always thought they were just nature reserves or historical landmarks."

The third agent dropped back to walk in time with the other two, amused by Walter's excitement.

The three approached the mansion, Walter buzzing with more excitement by the second as Lance typed in the security code to unlock the doors.

The doors swung open, and Walter let out a quiet squeak of anticipation as he tentatively took a few steps into the building while keeping a few paces behind the other two agents.

Marcy blew a whistle of astonishment from her lips, spinning around slightly to get a look at the entirety of the 'cloak room'.

She looked back over at Lance, a smirk playing on her lips. "Wow, modest much?"

Lance simply shrugged, and replied "Thought I might as well get a house that screamed 'international heroic superspy.' Thought this did the job quite well."

An amazed "wow!!" came from about seven feet beside them, as Walter marvelled at the internal structure of the mansion. "It's like the Tardis in here!! So cool!"

Lance looked back at Marcy, confusion on his face. "What's a Tardis?"

Marcy simply shrugged. "Nerd speak."

That answer seemed to satiate Lance's curiosity, as he looked back over to where Walter was frantically typing something on his wrist-gadget.

"Hey Kid, why don't you go upstairs and explore for a bit, while Marcy and I grab some coffee? And don't worry about snooping, there's nothing important in most of the rooms anyway." Lance called out, catching Walter's attention.

Walter paused, eyes widening in excitement. "Really? I can- I can go explore?"

Lance chuckled. "Sure kid." He paused, and then motioned for Walter to come over first. "Hang on a sec, kiddo. Just need to quickly type something in."

Walter came over, curious, until Lance motioned to his wrist-gadget and asked him to get up contacts.

Walter did so, pulling up his contact list and moved his wrist over to Lance, who clicked create new contact and typed his phone number in.

"There we go, kid. Just wanted to make sure you could call me if you got lost, this place is a bit of a maze to people who've never been here before."

The young man just stood there, shell-shocked that _Lance Sterling was in his contact list._ Walter jumped on his feet slightly, and chirped "This is amazing!!" Before shooting off towards the stairs to go explore the upper floor.

Lance simply stood and watched, amazement on his face at how innocent and excitable Walter was, but was knocked out of his revere by a quiet snort from Marcy.

"Wow, Sterling. Didn't realise how much of parent you were." She smirked, hoping to embarrass the agent.

"Yeah, yeah. Kappel. Let's just go and get something to drink while we discuss some things."

The two made their way over to the kitchen, with Marcy following slightly behind Lance due to not wanting to seem disrespectful to the man in his own home.

Lance walked in through the doorway first, and invited Marcy to go and take a seat at the bar while got the coffee machine going. The super-spy was just about to ask Marcy how she like her coffee, when Lance's cell-phone rang with a number he could only assume was Walter's.

Amusement coursed through him as he clicked answer call. "Heya kid, lost already?"

Walter's excited mumbling came through the speaker all at once, causing Lance to laugh softly. "Calm down, Walter. I can't understand a thing you're saying."

"Sorry Lance." The inventor replied. "But I've just found something super interesting about your lightbulbs. I mean- the way each of the lights were placed made me think that maybe there was some specific reason for it, and then I realised that it was because the way the wires had obviously been arranged in the ceiling meant that they were connected in their own separate circuit rather than connected to the same mains of all the other internal electronics like the heating and water sprinklers."*

Lance stood there, leaning against the kitchen counter top, smiling widely at the excited ramblings coming from Walter. "That's pretty cool, and all, kiddo. But what does all that mean exactly?"

*"Well, it means that if the power goes out like during a storm or something, then a back up generator can be installed specifically for the lights, and while that sounds rather tedious to have two separate generators, it also means that there's more of a chance to have lights on during a storm because there are two power generators rather than everything being in one, which would increase the chance of all of the wires and circuits getting fried for everything during a storm. I just thought you might find this interesting to know, is all."

Lance let out another soft laugh, his smile growing a fraction of a centimetre wider. "Yeah, that was pretty interesting to know, Thanks, Kid." 

The older agent heard a quiet chirp of pride come from the other side of the phone, as Walter happily replied "No problem! Bye Lance!!" before hanging up and undoubtedly going off to find more sciency stuff to nerd out about.

Lance turned around to Marcy, shaking his head and laughing while asking "Can you believe this kid? He finds the ... _most_ _curious_ things interesting."

Marcy looked up at him, with an eyebrow quirking up. "Why did you suddenly sound like an old Victorian man or something?" 

Lance sighed, quietly, concern written on his face. "He's not a fan of being called weird, or having anything he likes being called weird for that matter. I'm planning on asking him why he gets so upset at some point, but he really seems to- _hate_? Can I even say that Walter hates anything? Anyway,- he gets really upset and I'm kinda worried why."

Marcy looked thoughtful for a few seconds before replying. "I don't know. Maybe he's just sensitive? I mean, I don't think anyone really _likes_ being called weird."

Lance shrugged. "Yeah, I know; but it just feels like there's more to it. Maybe I'm just overthinking it."

The woman at the table wheezed in amusement. "Who'd have thought? Lance Sterling, the infamous spy, is an overprotective dad."

Lance glared half-heartedly at her. "Yeah, you try looking after that kid for a while and see if you get attached, and if you didn't, I'd seriously consider that you might have some sort of issue. The kid is like small animal- you've gotta look after him or else something bigger is gonna try and eat him. Figuratively, at least."

Marcy looked up at Lance curiously. "Speaking from experience?"

Lance looked at the floor suddenly, shuddering and trying to get the image of Robo-hand holding Walter down, with his hand ready to burn the kid to death. "Yeah. Something like that."

Marcy reached a hand out, concern written on her features. "Hey, Lance. You okay?"

The agent in question simply turned to look at her, his mild distress still obvious. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just realised something actually."

"Oh, what did you realise?" The internal affairs agent asked.

Lance smiled ruefully. "Just how much I hate vultures."

Marcy looked confused again, for a few seconds, but decided not to question it.

A mildly awkward silence fell over the two, until they heard the distinct sounds of someone running upstairs reverberating quietly through the floor.

"I wonder what the kid found now." Lance remarked, amused.

"Hopefully nothing dangerous." Marcy added, also remotely amused.

A couple of moments later, the two heard the sound of someone running down the stairs, tripping up on a few steps before getting back up and continue running, then jumping off the last two steps and come running towards the kitchen.

Both Marcy and Lance looked at each other, completely confused.

The two looked towards the door, just as a panting Walter stumbled in through it, holding his wrist-gadget rather than wearing it.

"You alright, Walter? You sure came in in a hurry." Lance, asked, trying to keep his voice level.

Walter took in a few more breaths, before moving over to the two agents and explaining. "Okay so it's already getting dark and the sun started setting, but I din't realise until I looked out one of the windows and I was like "wooooahhhh" because the view was super pretty, and then I decided to start taking pictures but then the sun started going down even more so I was taking even more pictures because the sky was full of really pretty colours and then I looked back at one of the pictures and it's so cool! I got really excited and wanted to show you guys." The young inventor began to rock back and forth on his feet slightly, obviously still trying to wear off some of the excitement.

Marcy looked up at Walter, a disbelieving look on her face. "So you decided to run as fast as you could towards the stairs, continue running down the stairs and then fall, only to get back up again and continue running?"

"Uh-huh!" Walter nodded enthusiastically.

Lance chuckled lightly. "Well, come on then, kiddo. Show us the picture."

Walter looked up at Lance, excitement making his eyes look even brighter, before quickly swiping through his gadget to find the picture in question.

When he found it, he began to reconfigure the image as a hologram, before projecting it onto a nearby wall to show them.

"See! Aren't the colours just super-duper pretty?"

The two eldest agents looked at the picture, with slight amazement on their faces.

Marcy was the first to speak. "Well done, Walter. That _is_ a good picture. You were right- the colours are very nice."

Walter beamed, before looking up curiously at Lance. "So, what do you think?"

The older man looked down at Walter, then looked back at the picture before returning his gaze to Walter. "I think that's a really amazing picture. You say you took that from one of the upstairs windows?"

Walter nodded excitedly again, happy that the two like the picture he'd taken.

"Hmm." Lance hummed. "Maybe I should try looking out of the windows more often. Well done, kid. You seem pretty good at taking photos."

The young man laughed shyly. "I mean, most of the time I just get lucky. But it doesn't stop me from trying, though."

Lance looked down at Walter, before affectionately ruffling his hair. "Atta-boy."

Walter laughed cheerfully, feeling truly happy for the first time in a while. It was a nice feeling, being actually happy- but he was used to the false happiness he used to get him through each day. Being rejected, out-cast and bullied can really take its toll on people, and Walter was more than familiar with that toll.

That toll meant false smiles, over-exaggerated optimism and hopefulness, and constant anxiety that someone might notice. Well, _maybe_ that part was a side-affect. He probably just had anxiety.

Either way, he felt comfortable here, and really wanted the night to last.

He wasn't sure if he'd be able to face going back to his hom- _house_ in the morning.

"Well, have you picked out a room for yourself yet, kid? Or were you too pre-occupied by the lights and the sunset?" Lance asked softly, feeling proud at the large smile plastered across Walter's face.

Walter started, feeling surprised. "O-oh. I kinda just thought I'd sleep on the couch, or something. I don't want to take up too much space."

Lance and Marcy deadpanned, astounded by how ridiculous the boy could be at times.

"Walter, there's no way you're gonna sleep on the couch. And it's not like you can take up that much room anyway, kid. You look like a _beanpole."_ Lance remarked, not willing to put up with Walter's self-deprecating rubbish.

Marcy nodded her head approvingly. "He's right, Walter. You do look a bit skinny. Well, a bit _too_ skinny."

Walter just shook his head, feeling mildly attacked. "Nuh uh, I'm a perfectly healthy weight. Just not built very well, that's all."

The older man looked down at Walter, disbelieving. "Walter, I can literally pick you up by the back of your shirt like you weigh a bag of grapes. Maybe that would be acceptable for a little kid, but you are 20 years old. An entire adult. That's not healthy."

Walter squeaked defensively, pointing at Lance and exclaiming "No, you're just a giant! You're super tall, and really strong, so It makes sense that you're able to do that."

Marcy looked over at Walter, wanting to get her own opinion in. "Walter, I'm pretty sure the only thing that would be able to stop me from picking you up is the fact that you're taller than me by about five inches. Which, when you think about it, isn't that much."

Walter went slightly pink, feeling rather cornered. "Yeah, well. Um. I'm just gonna go look for a room, now..."

And with that, he sped off back up stairs.

"Well." Lance began. "That sure was interesting."

"Yeah." Marcy agreed. "Are you gonna talk to him about his health at some point, or are you just gonna let him do his thing?"

Lance looked away towards the direction Walter had ran off to, and made up his mind. "Oh, I'm definitely gonna talk to him about it. The kid has got to have something wrong with him- I mean, I keep telling him he has issues, and all he does is laugh."

Marcy whistled. "Whoo, sounds like you might have your work cut out for you."

Lance simply shrugged, not feeling too intimidated by the task. "Eh, Walter's a pretty soft kid, I don't suppose it'll take too much persuasion to get him to see a doctor or something."

"I don't know" Marcy warned. "He seems to be pretty set on the idea that he's okay."

Lance shrugged again, setting down two mugs in front of the coffee machine. "Aren't we all?"

Marcy did a quick finger gun at the super-spy. "Touche."

"Well, now that I've finally got time to ask- how do you take your coffee, Kappel?" Lance asked, turning his back to the coffee machine.

Marcy smirked. "Black, and pretty hot, too."

Lance laughed, placing a cup underneath the coffee machine. "Good choice, cold coffee just isn't as good as hot coffee, is it?"

The internal affairs agent nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Anyone who drinks cold coffee is a psycho."

The man at the coffee machine agreed with a hum, before pausing. "I bet you the kid likes cold coffee. He strikes me as that kind of person."

Marcy shuddered. "Oh god, you're right as well. I sure hope he doesn't."

The super-spy laughed again, a bit heartier this time. "You said it."

About half an hour had passed, of Lance and Marcy talking pleasantly over cups of hot coffee and work related banter, when the two heard a thud from the living room.

"Well that certainly wasn't Walter." Marcy said, standing up.

"Yeah, my thoughts exactly."

Both agents began to creep towards the living, half expecting to see an intruder, and half expecting to just see something knocked over, when a small white and brown tinted blur shot out from behind one of the couches.

"Lovey!" Lance cried. "I thought you were still at the agency. How did you get here?"

The small dove sat on the arm of one of the chairs, and chirped in a way that sounded like it was trying to be an explanation.

At least until she saw Marcy, and she fluffed up her front-feathers in annoyance.

Just at that moment, Walter came running back down the stairs, seemingly summoned by the mention of his best friend. 

"Lovey? Did I just hear someone say her name?" Walter looked over to where the two older agents were standing, and caught sight of his dove friend.

"Lovey!! How did you find us?" The young inventor yelled excitedly, running over to his 'emotional support animal.'

The dove in question flew over to meet him half way, and so the two collided slightly into a kind of messy, but still heartwarming hug that left Walter laughing and Lovey chirping happily.

"Well. I guess that's kinda cute." Marcy remarked.

"Yeah, the two really rely upon each other a lot. When I first met Lovey she was flying around Walter's house, and he introduced her as his 'room-mate'." Lance informed her, keeping his voice low and speaking quietly.

"Oh." Was Marcy's only reply.

"Yeah." Came Lance's.

"I think we might want to find him some other human friends." Marcy suggested, also keeping her voice low.

Lance snickered. "What, like a play-date?"

"Whatever it takes to make the kid some new friends, I guess." Came Marcy's mildly flippant reply.

"What'cha talkin' about?" Walter said cheerily, while walking towards the two older agents.

"Uhhhh" Came Lance's eloquent reply.

"About how wei- how _different_ it is that you have friends that are pigeons, and not people." Marcy cut in, trying to save face.

"Oh." Came a mildly disheartened reply.

"It's not a bad thing!" Lance interjected, already feeling bad. "It's definitely not bad. Just... yeah. Different."

Walter looked down at his feet, shuffling awkwardly, while Lovey crooned comfortingly. 

"I... I don't know. I guess people were always too difficult for me to understand. They never really liked me, _people,_ that is. I mean, you guys didn't like me either not that long ago." The young scientist looked up cautiously, bright blue eyes shining with a kind of hurt that looked so _wrong_ to see on him.

"Kid! I- We- ..." Came the guilty reply from the tallest agent.

"It's okay. It's okay, Lance. I know you were just going off the evidence you'd been given, it's not like I gave you much else to change that opinion of me." A soft and almost resentful chuckle came from Walter, as he looked up at Lance earnestly.

"Okay, you know what- I think we need to set up a few ground rules. Number one- when someone does something mean to you, no more of this "It's okay" business because, seriously Walter, it's not. Number two- I don't want to hear any of this self-deprecating crap, you hear me? In this household, we love and respect Walter Beckett. Got it?" Lance stood there, looking expectantly at Walter, almost daring him to challenge these new rules.

"But I-" Walter began.

"Nope! Not happening, you're gonna learn to talk nicely about yourself, kiddo, one way or another. Do you think that sounds fair, Marcy?"

The internal affairs agent was off to the side slightly, trying hard to repress giggles at the conversation before her. "Oh yeah," She coughed, "definitely. You've gotta learn to stick up for yourself, kid."

Walter looked up at the two, mild astonishment on his face as he tried to decipher _what_ _in_ _the_ _ever_ _loving_ _heck_ just happened. "Uhhh. Oookaayy...?" Came the timid reply.

Lance stood up straighter. "Eh. we'll work on it."

"Well. Uhm. Sooo, what are we gonna do about uh, y-you know? Just, everything? Like, uh-" Walter stammered awkwardly, trying to change the subject.

"As in about dinner?" Lance asked, trying to decipher what Walter was getting at.

"S-sure! That. yeah." The young scientist shied away, feeling vulnerable.

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm going to get myself some Chinese food." Marcy stated, while walking away to order her own food.

"Sounds like a plan." Lance agreed. "You want Chinese, kid?"

"Yes please! If- uh, if that's okay." 

Lance looked back at Walter, mildly incredulous at how easy this kid could work himself up into a worry. "Of course, why wouldn't it be? Come on, kid. Let's go find out what to order."

And with that Lance began to walk away, leaving Walter to follow behind him, excited at the prospect of eating dinner with some other company for a change.


	2. This Home of Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF angst FLUFF FLUFF

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was so short, guys! I was trying to think of a way to make it longer, but I think I want to leave the next few bits for the next chapter. Anywhoo, hope you enjoy!

Marcy and Lance sat on one of the large white couches, balancing their plates of food on pillows on their laps, while Walter sat on the floor with his box of noodles.

They were all watching a murder mystery, something about a dude with a really funny moustache and a french accent going around and knows absolutely everyone he encounters as he solves the murders. 

Well, it would've been a mystery- if Walter didn't keep guessing who the murderer was, correctly, every single episode.

"Kid, have you watched all these episodes already or something? Cause this is getting ridiculous." Marcy said, while pointing an accusatory fork at the young man sat on the floor.

"Nope!" Walter replied, cheerily, while waving his empty chopsticks around excitedly.

"You sure about that, kiddo? I know you're crazy smart, but this is the fifth one you've guessed right." Lance commented, also feeling sceptical that Walter's never seen these episodes.

"It's just kinda obvious is all. You know, you look for the tells in each person and- if the actors and actresses portrayed their character right- you can just tell who it is. It's simple human behaviour!" Walter explained casually.

"Yeaaah, simple human behaviour. How many PhD's do you have, kid?" Came Marcy's question.

"Seven! Ya know, the same amount as Bruce Banner." Was the cheery reply.

Both of the agents on the sofa stared, wide eyed at Walter.

"What?" Walter queried.

"Seven? You have Seven PhD's?" Lance couldn't believe it.

"Mhm! My goal is to get to ten before I'm thirty, and I've already got seven at twenty years old, so I think I'm gonna get there." 

Marcy shook her head. "Walter, kid. It takes _at_ _least_ four years to earn _one_ PhD. How the hell could you have _seven?"_

Walter swallowed another mouthful of noodles. "You seem to have forgotten that I graduated MIT at fifteen. Not to mention I discovered how to edit human genomes in middle-school."

"Oh. Yeah."

Lance began to chuckle, looking at Marcy with a smirk on his face. "He sure showed you, Kappel."

Marcy grumbled. "Can it, Sterling."

"So, kiddo. Who do you think the murderer is this time?" Lance turned his attention to the scientist sat on the floor, transfixed by the TV.

"Hmm... I'd say the dentist. He seems kinda sketchy." Walter narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the man in question on the large screen.

"Dentist it is, then." Lance conceded.

The next three episodes passed by in relative silence, aside from the occasional exasperated cry from Marcy whenever Walter's assumption was correct.

"Seriously kid, how do you do it? There's got to be something you know." Marcy accused Walter.

Walter shrugged. "I don't know- it's all just educated guesses. I suppose I'm just lucky."

"Well, whatever it is, it seems to be working for you." Lance chimed in.

Walter smiled so purely at the older man, that Lance was sure he was going to get cardiac arrest.

Marcy yawned and stretched. "Well boys, any idea what time it is? I guess I should be leaving."

A small and disappointed "aww" came from the inventor perched on the floor, and Marcy couldn't help but feel a little bit guilty.

Lance also stretched, and checked his watch. "Whoo, how many episodes of that show did we watch? It's already 10PM."

The trio then looked out of the windows, and sure enough they saw a dark sky stretching far across the cityscape.

"Huh, looks like you'll be staying the night anyway." Lance stated, while lowering his arm.

Marcy faltered. "Won't I be overstaying my welcome?"

Lance chuckled. "Of course not, unless you plan on stealing the bedding from all the rooms and making a huge pile in the living room. And besides- I'm not letting you go and drive around in this dark- I can barely see the drive way!"

Walter nodded enthusiastically, pleading silently for Marcy to stay.

She gave in. "Okay. I'll stay, but purely because Walter's puppy dog eyes would kill me if I didn't."

Walter grinned widely, and beamed up at Lance, who simply smiled back with a proud look in his eyes.

"Ookay, considering all three of us have work tomorrow-" Marcy began.

"-Actually Director Joy told Lance and I that we probably shouldn't go into work tomorrow, because of legal reasons apparently." Walter cut in, looking rather sheepish.

"... Well, _I_ have work tomorrow, so I'm gonna head to bed. Any specific rooms I should or shouldn't crash in?" Marcy asked, looking at Lance.

"So long as you stay out of my room, I'm sure you'll be fine." Lance replied.

"Awesome, thanks. Well, I guess I'm off. See you in the morning, boys." Marcy said as she walked towards the stairs.

"Goodnight Marcy!!" Walter called after her.

The internal affairs agent simply stood on the stairs and gave a quick salute in return.

The two men stood quietly for a few seconds, watching her leave, before Walter himself let out a yawn.

"Aww man. I wish I had all my science stuff with me- that usually keeps me awake for a few more hours." Walter sighed, sadly.

Lance looked down at Walter, quizzically. "So, does that mean when you get tired- instead of, I don't know, sleeping- you start doing science things?" Lance couldn't believe that Walter was actually being serious.

"Well, yeah." Came the un-fazed reply. "I've gotta be as productive with my day as possible!"

Lance shook his head. "So that's why you always look like you're about to drop dead from exhaustion? Not just because you're a huge nerd, but because you do dumb stuff like that?" 

"Hey!" Walter squeaked. "It's not dumb, it's productivity!"

"Uhuh. Why don't you just, I don't know, leave it until the morning? You'd still be productive, and you wouldn't be sleep-deprived." Lance was feeling more and more exhausted by this kid's life style.

Walter poked his feet at the ground for a bit. "Because I like staying up late? And... sleep isn't really all that... _fun_. Ya know?"

Lance raised an eyebrow. "Kid, sleep isn't supposed to be _fun._ It's sleep. You're supposed to be unconscious."

"But if I go to sleep, then how am I supposed to stay up and look at all the stars in the sky?" Walter asked, bouncing on his heels. 

Lance raised both his eyebrows this time. "You go to work everyday, Walter. You absolutely should _not_ be staying up and stargazing. Definitely not when we have to get into work by seven o'clock."

Walter quietly mumbled something under his breath. 

"What was that?"

"Technically I have to get in at 6:30. So I can work on any projects from the past week or before that."

Lance was about to have a heart attack, he could feel it.

"Okay. What time do you have to get up, then?"

Walter stared up at Lance, mild fear and defiance in his eyes. "That's classified."

Lance took in a deep breath through his nose, feeling agitation and worry flooding his systems. "Walter Beckett I swear if you don't tell me how much sleep you actually get each night, we will _not_ be getting ice-cream tomorrow."

Walter made a noise somewhere between a yelp and a squeak, and looked up at Lance with a clear expression of disbelief on his face.

"You can't make me do anything! We're on even playing fields! We have the same jobs as each other now!!" Walter was trying to defend himself.

"I am a whole _22 years_ older than you, Walter. You're basically a child. I have authority over you right now, because we are _not_ at work and you are in my house. Now spill."

Walter made a rueful grumbling noise. "I don't know... kind of like, five or six hours? When I'm feeling extra productive I'll stay up longer." He at least had the decency to look bashful.

Lance was feeling more and more disbelieving the more he learned. 

"How- wh- How can you- What?! How the hell do you survive?!" Lance was staring, wide eyed at Walter.

All Walter did was shrug his shoulders again. "I'm a morning person."

Lance deadpanned. "Okay. Okay. Whatever- just. Right, I'm going to head to bed now anyway, and strongly suggest you do the same."

"But-"

"I don't care if we don't have work in the morning, Walter. It's bed time. _Now_."

Walter pouted. "Awwww. But _Laaaance_!"

Lance couldn't help the slight smile that made it's way onto his face. This kid could be so amusing sometimes. "Go and get ready for bed, Wally. Oh wait- you don't actually have any pajamas, do you? Hmmm. I'm sure I've got a hoodie or something somewhere."

Walter flinched away from Lance. "No No! It's okay! I can just sleep in my clothes. It's not a big deal."

Lance shook his head for the ump-teenth time that day. "Nope, not happening, kiddo. I'll go and find something, I'll be back in a bit."

So Walter stood there, rocking back and forth on his feet, waiting for Lance to return.

When he finally did, he had come back with a grey hoodie, one that looked a little bit too small for a Lance, but _waaaay_ too big for Walter.

"Found one of my old hoodies. Knew I had one somewhere." Lance said, as he handed the large grey jumper over to Walter.

"Heh, thanks, Lance. I mean it. Thanks for letting me stay over for the night, too. And for buying food." Walter looked up at Lance, a soft, yet remorseful smile on his face.

Lance placed his hand on the young man's shoulders. "It's really not a problem, kid. Seriously. Thanks for letting me help you." Lance spoke with such sincerity, that Walter couldn't help but throw himself at Lance for another hug.

The wind was very briefly knocked out of him, but the older agent didn't care, because- _Hey, what kind of an asshole would he be to turn down one of Walter's hugs? After all they've been through? Nah._

Lance carefully placed a hand on Walter's back, feeling happy for the first time in a while. It was rather difficult to make actual friends in his line of work, and it was even more difficult to keep them. Whether that was because of people constantly moving around from base to base, or because of... _other_ factors, friends were few and far between for Lance Sterling. He tried to shrug it off because, really it only made his work more difficult; but it certainly didn't make his life easier. However, Lance was used to making sacrifices, and that was the sacrifice he made the most.

Until a certain scrawny little smart-ass of a kid messed with his stuff one day, and all of a sudden Lance not only has a close co-worker, but a friend, and something that feels rather suspiciously like a son. _Hmmm. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it._

"Okay, kiddo. Now it's definitely time for bed. Go on- I'll see you in the morning." Lance said, as he pulled back from Walter's embrace. 

"Yeah, okay. I'll see you in the morning." Walter replied, very briefly wiping at his eyes. "Goodnight, Lance! And thanks again." 

And then he was gone, wandering back off upstairs to go and sleep in the room he had chosen.

Lance quietly sighed to himself, and looked back at the plates and other things left at the living room table.

A small, contented smile crossed his face, as he realised that for the first time in a while his house finally felt lived in. 

It finally felt like a _home_.


	3. Morning Person pt I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, much more angst in this chapter! But, fear not- there is still fluff too!!. 
> 
> Also, quick first trigger warning for this chapter- there's a very brief mention of a school shooting at the beginning, it's not too long, but if you're sensitive to those sorts of incidents for any reason, please skip ahead! It ends at "What a wonderful way to start the morning. He thought bitterly." (For those who want to know.)
> 
> Also- apologies for the lateness!! I'll try not to do it again!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'll admit- this chapter got much heavier than I had anticipated it would, but at the same time I felt like I really wanted to explore all of Lance's feelings and emotions, and why I feel he thinks he has to fly solo.
> 
> There's a lot to do with grief and anxiety in this chapter (both parts from both characters- but Lance also has a panic attack in this chapter, so please be careful when reading) and there is also a kind of brief mention of suicide, as well as a lot of struggling with the ideas of a found-family, and if it can really be a family. (Spoiler alert: It most certainly can. <3)

It really was no secret, but Lance Sterling was _not_ a morning person. Or, for that matter, a morning people kind of person. 

However, he was a Walter kind of person. Unfortunately.

"C'mon Lance! What are we gonna do today? Oh, we could like, uhhh... go to the park? Or do super spy stuff like- paperwork?- aw man that's not very fun. But we _have_ still gotta do it... hmmm... Ooh! Maybe we could-" Walter's all too excited ramblings were cut off from a quiet groan from Lance.

"Kid, please. Let's just have breakfast before we make any plans for today, okay? And anyway- how the hell are you so awake right now? It's 8 AM, kid." Lance let out another yawn, trying to get his brain fully functioning.

"I've already told you Lance, it's because-"

Lance groaned again. "-because you're a morning person, yeah I know. It's pretty damn obvious at this point."

Walter winced. "Aaand, I take it you're not?"

Lance had leaned forward to take a sip of his coffee, but the question had stopped him in his tracks as he turned his head towards Walter, in order to stare at him in the most dead-panned, unenthusiastic way possible.

"Okay I guess that's a yes, then?" Walter said sheepishly.

The older agent took in a deep breath, and went back to drinking his coffee.

"Okie dokie then! I think I'm just gonna... go and... talk to Lovey! Bye Lance!" And with that, Walter had run off upstairs to find his best friend.

Lance sighed; it was too early to deal with hyperactive scientists with poor social skills. Actually, come to think of it- it was too early to deal with anyone.

The super-spy began to scroll through the news feed on his Ipad, reading all of the latest tragedies and wanna-be scandals across the globe. He continued to drink his coffee, until he came across a news report that made his stomach sink in a familiar way, that made him sometimes wish that he didn't call America his home. It was happening too often, reports like these, reports of young people dying needlessly because some dickhead with a gun thought it would be cool to shoot at them.

Lance closed the page, put down the tablet, and finished his coffee. 

_What a wonderful way to start the morning._ He thought bitterly.

Stretching on his stool, Lance then got up and decided that he would try and do something productive with his day off- it wasn't like he got too many of those. He of course got holidays off during Christmas and any other festive happenings, but he didn't get many days off in the spaces between that- not unless it was because he was on medical leave for an injury he received during a mission, or on the off-chance he was sick.

 _I wonder how many days off Marcy and the kid usually get? I don't suppose Marcy gets that many off, her job is preeeetty important._ He mused. _But I wonder about Walter? I can't imagine being a lab nerd is an extremely taxing job, and considering how many people there are down there, it's probably safe to assume he gets way more time than I do._

The agent briefly stretched again, deciding that he'd ask the kid at some point that day.

Oh yeah, the kid. Icecream.

Lance sighed. _Guess we'll be going and doing that today._

He hummed quietly and thoughtfully to himself, trying to think of anything useful but not too strenuous he could do to pass the time.

 _Sleep sounds pretty good._ A random thought at the back of his mind said.

 _I'm already awake, might as well do something useful._ He replied.

 _But sleep is pretty useful, for keeping me running, at least._ Came the retort.

"I can't believe I'm actually having an argument with myself. This is ridiculous." He spoke out loud, to no one in particular.

Shaking his head, and breathing out through his nose, Lance decided to head up stairs and find out what Walter was doing, hoping it might give him some ideas of his own.

Walking up the stairs, and onto the upper-floor, Lance began to wander casually around each corridor, trying to find the room Walter had picked for his own.

It was going to be a bit of a challenge, considering Lance didn't even know which side of the building he was on, let alone which corridor the room was in.

He decided it was probably going to be somewhere on the other side of the mansion, at the furthest end of the corridor, due to Walter's insistence of "staying out of the way", and to "not be a nuisance". Which really made no sense to Lance, but to be completely honest, the boy made very little sense to him anyway.

So, it was settled. He'd do a quick scan of every room he passed by, but he was already mainly sure that it was going to be where he had predicted.

About ten minutes of searching had passed, before Lance had started to consider giving up and just calling Walter to find out what room he was in. However, he'd already set himself the challenge of finding the kid, and having any hints or outside help felt like he was admitting defeat. So basically, he wasn't going to do that.

After searching another corridor, Lance was starting to feel somewhat less grumpy, and more like he was playing some kind of game. Kind of like hide-and-seek, but the other player doesn't know that they're playing hide-and-seek, and there will be no hiding or seeking once the other person has been found. 

Well, not unless the kid can convince him to play.

Passing down the final corridor, Lance remembered Walter mentioning the windows, and the pictures he'd taken out of them. And so, Lance looked out of the windows, and was pleasantly surprised by the fact that the view was actually very nice from them.

He strolled down the corridor, looking for signs of life in every room as he went, until he reached the very final door in the "Living Section" of the mansion. It also happened be the smallest room, so it was a perfect spot for an awkward person to hide away in.

Pressing an ear to the door, Lance wanted to make sure that Walter was actually in there, because if he wasn't- well, _then_ what? He would have to call him, most likely.

Keeping his breathing quiet, he heard what definitely sounded like Walter talking in there. Whether he was talking to himself, or to Lovey, was to be determined. 

However, Lance was less focused on who Walter was talking _to_ , more so on what he was talking _about_.

"I don't know, Lovey. What am I supposed to do? I mean- obviously I have to go home at some point today, I still need to grab things. But... I just- what if I- what if... I can't face it? What happens if... if I break down again? O-or I see something that mum gave me and I can't take it with me, because it's too ruined? How am I supposed to deal with that? I don't know, Lovey... what am I gonna do?"

 _Of course._ Lance realised. _I promised him we'd go back today._

He took a few steps back, unsure of how to proceed. 

_Guess I've already eves'dropped enough, might as well find out what else the kid is thinking._

Pressing his ear back against the door, the agent started to listen again.

"-how I'm going to deal with going back to work, too! Like, how is everyone gonna react to me? As far as they were aware I was just that random weirdo who was stuck by the basement toilets- the one who kept on getting his ideas rejected, who kept making stupid things for stupid reasons because I'm just stupid, stupid, _stupid!_ I..." His voice cracked. "What did I do wrong, Lovey? _Why does_ _everyone hate me?"_

Lance felt his heart break all over again. He'd really hoped that by being nice to the kid, by giving him a place to stay and to feel comfortable, that maybe- _just maybe_ \- he'd be able to reverse some of the damage done. Sadly, it was beginning to look like that damage went a little bit too farther than Lance wanted to try and delve.

_Oh boy._

He heard Walter sniffling quietly, before the boy started talking again. "Well, I mean- you don't hate me, right Lovey?" There was a rather loud coo in response. "And- _sniff -_ It's safe to assume that at least Lance doesn't hate me? I mean, he let borrow his hoodie. And he gave me a place to stay for the night- not to mention he bought me food."

Lance felt himself breathe a sigh of relief. _Oh thank God._

Walter continued sniffling. "I think Marcy might be okay with me, too. She doesn't seem to think I'm a huge loser, anymore. Maybe she thinks I'm just kinda a loser." 

The agent outside the door had to restrain a quiet chuckle, feeling somewhat guilty, but at the same time slightly amused.

Walter continued. "Yeah, I've got you, Lance and Marcy. That might not be much, but it's more than I've had in a long time... Maybe one day we'll all be a flock, Lovey. I can't wait to have my own flock- I think it'll be nice, to have a family again. Don't you think, Lovey?" Another affirming coo resonated through the door, and the sound of moving feathers and chuckles accompanied it.

A huge weight lifted off of Lance's chest, a weight he didn't realise was there until now- but shortly after another weight took it's place. _What if something happened to one of them, and then Walter was a family member down? Would he be able to take that and get back up again? What if... what if they all lost Walter. Would Lance be able to survive that?_

Multiple dark thoughts began swarming through his head, and worries that he hadn't felt in a long time began to follow suit. It had been a long while since Lance'd had a family too, and he wasn't sure if he himself could take the pressures that ensued. 

_Fuck._ He cursed silently. _I guess I'll burn that bridge when I get to it._

Taking a deep breath, trying to dispel the anxieties, he decided that now was probably a good time to knock on the kid's door and...

Do what?

The kid clearly didn't have any plans- which is what Lance had been looking for him for. 

He can't just not acknowledge everything he'd heard, but he can't give it away that he'd been listening, either.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

Before he'd even realised it, Lance felt himself knocking on Walter's door. _What the fuck, me._ He groaned internally.

He heard the tentative shuffling of Walter opening the door, and once it was open Lance was met with the view of an awkward, scruffy-haired scientist who _definitely_ needed to brush his hair.

"O-oh. Hey, Lance. Is everything okay?" Walter asked, quickly brushing some of the hair out of his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, everything's good, kid. I was just wondering if you had any ideas how we were gonna plan today out, is all." The super agent stated coolly, trying to resist the urge to brush Walter's hair himself.

 _Who the hell lets their hair get that bad, anyway? The kid looks like he's been dragged through a hedge backwards, and then been electrocuted. _Lance rambled internally, once again being stumped by the strange entity stood before him.

"Oh, uhmm. I don't really know? What exactly do we have planned for today?" The kid asked, shifting from one foot to the other.

Lance let out a thoughtful hum, before pointing at Walter's mess that he calls hair. "You're going to go and have a shower, first of all- and then you're gonna brush that dog's dinner on top of your head. Walter, it looks like a _bird's nest."_

Walter huffed, and dropped his shoulders a little bit lower. "I'll have you know, that Lovey actually likes sitting on top of my head. I can imagine it's rather comfy."

A small pout made it's way on to Walter's face, and Lance finally understood how exasperated parents with moody teenagers felt.

To be honest, if Lance hadn't actually read through Walter's file to find out that the kid _wasn't_ in fact a 15 year old child, Lance would've sworn that he did have a moody teenager under his roof.

Instead, he has a socially inept, animal loving, genius-mess of a twenty year old staying with him.

 _And I wouldn't exchange him for the world._ A strange and unfamiliar voice said, leaving Lance wondering where all these new thoughts kept coming from.

"Okay, kiddo. I'm sure she loves sitting on top of your head- but you absolutely _cannot_ go outside looking like _that_ _much_ of a goblin." Lance felt his resolve break slightly at the big blue eyes staring up at him. 

_What the fuck? I don't even want kids. What the hell is happening to me? _Lance was starting to feel like things were getting out of hand, and that he'd need an answer for them, and quickly.

Walter let out another, small and quiet, huff of disappointment. "Oookaayyy... I'll go and have a showeerrr..." He trailed off, still pouting as he turned around to get the clothes he salvaged.

Soon enough the young man had awkwardly shuffled through the doorway, past Lance, and down the corridor to go and find one of the bathrooms. 

Lance called out to him "You sure you know where you're going, kid?"

Walter stuck a thumb up as a response.

The older man sighed, and then chuckled, wondering how on earth he manages to keep sane with people like Walter wandering around all the time.

Suddenly interested, Lance quickly peered down the hall-way, making sure Walter was gone, before sneakily stepping into Walter's room to see what the kid had done with the place.

He stepped in, and was both pleasantly surprised and mildly disappointed at the same time.

The room was mostly neat, appearing mainly untouched and unexplored, which was part of the disappointing bit. However, the kid had made a right mess of the bed, with the sheets pulled up and completely unfolded- and he'd also placed a few of his belongings on the bedside table. Obviously Walter didn't have much with him, which was the rest of the disappointing part, but what he did bring he'd arranged very nicely and thoughtfully on the table.

Lance carefully sat on the bed, and gently examined the items before him:

First of all, he picked up the shards of mug that Walter had brought with him, and while at first Lance cooed at the thoughtfulness and sincerity of the mug's pieces, he felt his heart break when he saw a young, smiling Walter's face printed onto the shattered piece.

Carefully putting it down from where he found it, Lance moved onto the next item:

Walter's other best friend (aside from Lovey, of course), Unity. The small, bright-pink tinted unicorn that the kid loved so dearly. Lance gently turned it over, examining the fluffy beast, before once more feeling saddened by the patches of dirt and burns on its soft white coat. 

He slowly placed that one back, too, feeling strangely afraid that if he dropped it (her? Him? _Them?_ ) that somehow, it'd tell Walter all about it.

And lastly, Lance picked up the most valuable item on the table:

The broken picture frame of Walter's mother, in her uniform. 

Lance felt his chest _ache_ , in a deep kind of sense that he usually only reserved for fallen agents, an ache that made Lance question why he still tried to fight for the world. It made him ask why good people had to die too soon, and why people got away with being the reason they died in the first place.

As Lance looked over the cracked and shattered picture, he felt somewhat thankful for something he knows he should appreciate more; at least they still had Walter.

At least Walter hadn't been taken away too.

Maybe Lance wouldn't have been affected if Walter hadn't made it, but he knows the world would have. That kid has already done so much, in so little time, and Lance just knows he'll do even more with the rest of the time he has.

**But what if he doesn't have any more time? What if you're gonna lose him, just like you lost everyone else? Your wife, your friends, your colleagues... Why do you think he's gonna be any different?**

A strange, dark, and sickening thought crossed through Lance's mind, bringing even more with it.

**You know he's too good for a place like this. It's why all of the good ones leave so soon- it's better up there. Better than it is down here.**

**Maybe you should just let him go- I mean, it's not like he'd actually want you to be his dad, right? You're an asshole who fired him for disagreeing with you.**

**Dad? Where did dad come from? You know you can't adopt him, right? You know you can't _love_ him, right? You can't love anything that isn't yourself.**

Lance felt his head begin to spin, and his chest begin to constrict. All of a sudden everything was too much all at once- and the thoughts wouldn't even stop coming.

**What makes you think the kid won't leave the moment all of this is over? He's clearly afraid of you, and he's obviously too hurt to try and stand up from himself.**

**Maybe he'll kill himself and it'll be all your fault for being horrible and selfish and cruel and distant and he'll write it down on a note saying that it was you who killed him because you couldn't be a good enough human to keep him safe and alive.**

Slowly choking on his own thoughts and feelings, Lance felt himself let go of the picture frame and briefly heard a "CRACK" that felt all too distant for something that was probably only just over a meter away from his face.

He curled his fists tightly, feeling angry that he let himself get like this, but also feeling so bone-crushingly scared at the same time. He tried to focus on his breathing, but all he managed to do was bite down on his tongue as hard as he could, trying to distract himself from the horrifying thoughts and images in his head.

However, somehow through the fuzz and panic that reverberated through his body, Lance felt a warm hand rest against his leg, and heard the distant sounds of a kind, yet panicked voice calling out to him.

The voice got clearer, and Lance could finally make out what it was saying:

"-ance. Lance. Hey, buddy- I need you to try and listen to me, okay? I just need you to listen and focus for a bit, alright? Come on, it's gonna be okay, buddy, I promise you it's gonna be okay."

The hand on his leg carefully moved upwards so it was on his arm, resting just above what Lance thinks was his elbow, and it began making small backwards and forwards movements. Honestly, if Lance wasn't so fucking messed up right now, he would have felt angry and patronised. But as it stood- the movement was helping, and Lance felt some of the ungodly panic drip away slowly.

The voice continued, still speaking softly, yet getting clearer by the second.

"Everything's gonna be fine, Lance. You're okay- you're safe and you're okay. I'll make sure you're gonna be fine. I've got your back, I promise I've got your back."

If Lance didn't know any better, he could have sworn that the voice wobbled as it promised that it had his back. Unfortunately, Lance didn't know any better at this time, but at least he wasn't so scared.

"There we go, come on buddy. I've got you, I promise I'm not leaving, okay? Okay, I'm gonna ask you a few things now, alright? Can you answer them for me, buddy?"

The voice was so sickeningly kind, that it was at that moment that Lance finally realised the only person it could possibly have been, for that specific reason. 

Walter began to ask him the questions.

"Okay, here we go, question number one: can you tell me three things you can hear, right now? Take your time, but I need you to answer the question, buddy."

Lance felt himself scoff internally. _Who let this kid be so damn kind?_

Nonetheless, he knew he would have to gather his bearings and answer Walter eventually.

"uh." He manged to grunt, his vocal chords not co-operating in the slightest.

The hand on his arm had slowed its pace slightly, as though Walter was allowing him to concentrate.

"Come on, buddy. You've got this. I believe in you."

Lance forced himself to try again, not wanting to let Walter down.

"U-uhm. I can... I-I can hear uh..."

He thought really hard for a minute, and realised he could hear a clock ticking quietly.

"A clock. I- I can hear a clock."

Lance took in a deep breath, feeling slightly winded by the talking.

"That's good! That's good. Now, can you hear anything else? You only need two more things."

Lance swallowed.

"I can hear you."

He felt Walter shift a bit, rather than saw him shift.

"Almost there, buddy. One more thing."

The older man tried to focus his hearing again, but all he was met with was his heart pounding through his skull.

_Oh._

"My heart. I can hear that."

A quiet noise of encouragement came from Walter.

"Good! There we go, now, can you tell me four things you can touch right now? It's okay if you can't name something, you can just describe it."

Lance was suddenly aware of the fact that he'd had his eyes screwed tightly shut this entire time, but he didn't have it in him to open them. Not right now.

"Uh. I can... I can feel the bed sheets?"

Walter gently squeezed his arm.

"There we go. You've got this."

The super spy took in another breath.

"I can feel my clothes."

Walter squeezed his arm again.

"That's two. You're halfway there."

Lance sighed.

"I can... I can feel your hand on my arm."

As if on instinct the hand removed itself, and Lance felt violently vulnerable. He must of appeared it to, humiliatingly, as the hand was back on his arm once more with Walter whispering hushed apologies.

Grounding himself to the sensation yet again, Lance began to hunt for the last thing.

"I can... I can touch the bed frame." To emphasise his point, Lance placed one of his hands on the wooden bed frame beside him.

"Perfect!" Walter encouraged, with another gentle arm squeeze. "Can you please tell me something you can taste?"

Lance is pretty sure he outwardly scoffed at that. _How do you even answer that question?_

He stumbled over his thoughts.

"Uhm... teeth? Does that- does that count?"

He heard a soft chuckle come from Walter.

"Yes, buddy. That counts. Alright, can you name me two things you can smell?"

Trying to get his nose to cooperate, the eldest man tried to decipher what ever the hell it was that he was smelling.

Something kind of fruity, and kind of gentle. Not an overpowering one- something like... what was it- shampoo?

 _"_ I think it's shampoo? That it is what I'm smelling, right?"

Walter gently squeezed his arm again.

"Yup!" Came the soft yet lively reply.

Lance breathed out through his nose again.

"Okay, one more thing. What else can I smell? Uhh......" He trailed off, trying to think, before he remembered something.

"Oh, I can smell the carpet cleaner. Yeah."

Another reassuring squeeze was his reward.

"There we go! Well done, buddy. One more thing left to do, though- can you open your eyes for me, please?" Walter asked so sweetly, and so kindly that Lance was certain his eyes opened on their own.

Once Lance could see, he was met by the sight of a mildly dishevelled Walter crouched in front of him, looking up worriedly and kindly into his eyes.

"Awesome." Was Walter's initial statement. "Right, now, can you tell me five things you can see?"

Lance squinted and looked around the room briefly.

"I can see the door frame."

A gentle squeeze to the arm.

"Uh. I can see the floor."

A soft chuckle and another squeeze was the only response he got.

"I can see the bed."

Another squeeze.

"Heh. I can see wardrobe."

Squeeze.

Lance swallowed again.

"And, I can see..."

He turned back to Walter.

"I can see that your hair is even more of a nightmare than it was to begin with."

To emphasise this, he carefully reached out to mess with the fluffy locks, feeling proud of himself for regaining his composure.

Walter, still crouched on the floor, began to laugh as Lance continued to mess with his hair, all the while grumbling about how much of a mess it was.

Combing through the young man's hair with his hands, Lance was complaining goodnaturedly about how kids these days don't know how to present themselves properly, and all Walter could do was manage a quiet scoff of offence, being quick to fire back at Lance for being an old man.

And thus, the calm and light atmosphere was restored, and Lance began to lessen his attacks on Walter's hair as it began to take the shape of something that didn't look entirely like a ball of candy floss.

Once Lance had stopped messing with Walter's hair, the kid had gotten up from the floor, and had carefully sat down on the bed next to Lance, while looking up at him kindly.

"You feeling okay now, buddy? Or are you still feeling a bit flighty?" Walter continued to talk to calmly and so softly, that Lance had started to wonder if Walter had some sort of super power that made people feel safe around him.

Well, in all fairness, Lance didn't really have any reason to be afraid of the kid- considering Lance was certain that he would be able to knock him down in one fair swoop- but that was besides the point. 

The fact that Walter was so capable of disarming a situation like that so perfectly, and still be so kind and gentle really made Lance wonder _why_ Walter didn't have more animals flocking to him.

 _Honestly,_ someone could tell Lance that Walter had walked right out of a Disney film and Lance would probably agree.

"Yeah, yeah I'm feeling alright now. Thanks, for helping just then."

Walter made eye contact with Lance, and then smiled so kindly that Lance felt his own heart melt. "Of course, buddy. Any time."

 _What on earth am I gonna do with him?_ Lance asked himself, bewildered. _Can I even legally adopt him, at this stage?_

Lance smiled weakly back at Walter- not because he didn't want to smile, but because he realised that any smile would be weak compared to this kid's.


	4. Morning Person pt II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two, my dudes! {And other non-gendered terms for friends, of course! :D }
> 
> Some more angst, not too much tho, and a crap tonne of fluff because I think it's long overdue.  
> Also, I am so, so sorry this has taken me so long to give to you lot. Honestly, everything just really got away from me, and I know that's not a very good excuse to not update, but I also lost my motivation to write along the way. However, fear not-
> 
> I'M BACK BABEYYYYYY :D

The two had been sat there for a little while now, just idly chatting about anything they could think of really. Lance came to the conclusion that neither of them actually wanted to discuss the events that had just occurred, and so the random conversation topics were probably just a way to cover up the awkwardness.

Walter quietly cleared his throat, and Lance understood it as the signal to talk about what they clearly didn't really want to.

"So, Lance. Uhm, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but I was just wondering- do you have any idea what- you know?-set you off? Because, I mean, normally these kinds of things have a trigger and I was just wondering what-"

Lance recognised the kid was just rambling, at this point, and decided that it would probably be best to shush him while he still could.

"Nah, I get it. It's alright kid, I can understand why you wanna know. Uh... I guess I don't really know what set it off really.."

That was a big ass lie, and Lance was too afraid to admit it. How on earth do you explain to someone that you've just had a freakin _panic attack,_ because you imagined them dying for no reason at all?

For what ever reason, whether it was because Walter was really that oblivious, or because he was just that damn intuitive, Walter nodded his head understandingly and told him it was okay.

Well, it was okay- until Walter picked up the even more ruined picture frame.

"Oh shit- I'm _so_ sorry kid, I didn't mean to-"

It was Walter's turn to cut him off. "It's okay, Lance. I'm not upset, really." He looked up at Lance, a genuine look in his eyes. "At this point, the thing is pretty much a wreck anyway, and I don't really care if I'm honest; the photo is fine. That's all that matters to me." He finished his sentence by looking back down at the picture, and gently running some of his fingers along the raw edge of the glass: an action that made Lance want to snatch the sharp object out of his hands as quickly as he could.

For a pretty firm pacifist, this kid certainly kicked Lance in the feelings a lot.

Lance decided that he'd been quiet for a little too long, and should probably say something to break the slowly building weight in the atmosphere. 

"You know, you uh- you look a lot like your mum. Well, at least from that picture." He coughed. 

Walter turned his head slightly, so that he was looking at Lance from an angle. "Thanks. I don't really remember what she looked like, aside from this picture." He sighed, shoulders sagging. "It's nice to know that something of her carries on, I guess."

Walter closed his eyes, and let his head hang low. 

The older agent felt his eye-brows screw in confusion. "What do you mean you don't remember? How old _were_ you?"

The scientist opened his eyes to look at the photo in his lap, and once again resumed tracing the outlines of the broken glass.

"I was six."

Lance felt his stomach drop.

"Six? You were, _orphaned..._ at six years old?" He couldn't believe it. How long has this guy been on his own?

The youngest looked up at Lance, and a small, tired smile made it's way onto Walter's face. "It wasn't too bad, I had my grandma up until I was about fourteen. She died of cancer, though, a few months before I graduated M.I.T." He sighed again, looking more exhausted by the second. "I just wish I could have done more for her, you know? She was sick, for a really long time, and she never really bounced back from mom's death. If only I could have done better..." He trailed off, his eyes growing a distant look that reminded Lance of the co-workers he's seen after fighting too many tiresome fights.

It was a look that Lance didn't like to see on anyone. But a kid? Someone who was only just into his twenties? It made Lance's stomach quiver and his chest ache.

Not really knowing how else to proceed, Lance carefully placed his hand over Walter's narrow shoulders, and tried to think of something to say. He really wanted to comfort Walter, he truly did, but this was never his strong-suit. He was definitely a "Punch first, talk later" kind of guy, which was only good for a few situations.

However, not saying anything seemed to do the trick just as well, because Walter willing sank into the contact. It really amazed Lance, to think that someone so innocent and childlike could survive into adulthood like Walter had- and to literally walk out of hell _smiling._

A few seconds passed, before Walter shifted on the bed slightly, so that he was facing Lance a bit more. "Hey, L-lance? Er, I know this is probably really awkward and all, and I'll understand if you say no, but could... could I please have a hug? Sorry, I'm just feeling kind of awful right now and-"

His words were cut off by his face meeting Lance's grey turtleneck, and Lance carefully wrapping his arms around Walter's small frame.

"It's okay, kid. You don't have to explain yourself." Lance's voice reverberated through his chest, and the sound was surprisingly soothing for the young scientist.

Moving his own arms to wrap around Lance's chest, Walter let himself relax into the hug, feeling truly safe and warm while in his father figure's embrace. Walter was so confused by the idea of having a dad, or a dad like person in his life- he'd never ever had one before. Was this kind of thing normal? Did parents hug their kids very often? He couldn't say for sure, but he was definitely sure that being hugged by someone you look up to is one of the best feelings _ever._

He couldn't even remember the last time he felt this peaceful! It was amazing, but then again- most hugs were. 

While Walter was trying to wrack his brain for the last time his mum had hugged him, Lance was reminiscing of the days where he himself had longed to be a father.

It had been many, many years (and tears) ago at this point, but he could still remember it clearly. It had been when he still had his wife, and they had been planning on settling down and having a little-one of their own- after goo-goo eyeing the toddlers and lucky parents in the parks outside their home- when Lance remembers the moment he realised that he would give anything to have child of his own.

He remembered the pure and unbridled excitement his wife and him had felt when they realised she was pregnant, and he remembered the countless nights he had stayed awake, imagining what it would be like to hold such a small child in his arms, and to look at that child and see his wife in there too.

Unfortunately, he also remembered the soul crushing agony of losing his wife and un-born baby to a drunk driver, and how from then on he couldn't even _look_ at a baby without feeling sick.

But now, being here and hugging Walter close to him, Lance began to feel that flame re-kindling, and he was somewhat awe struck at the feeling coming back. It left him afraid, too- afraid to lose that kind of joy again, but at least he had it back. 

Gently shifting Walter closer to him, Lance let himself appreciate the moment, despite knowing that this hug had probably gone on for way too long by normal standards. The kid looked so peaceful, though, and Lance realised he didn't have the heart to move him- not anymore. It hadn't been too long, since the two had met, and Lance already felt like this kid was going to become a vital part of his life.

That idea didn't seem that bad, either.

Carefully looking down at Walter and, while fussing with the messy brown hair, Lance continued to let his mind wonder about the kid in his arms. It was truly strange to Lance- not even a week ago, Lance had brushed this nerdy little guy off as nothing more than a nuisance, and yet: he had very quickly learned that this dorky little mess was much more than he had first appeared to be; selfless, peaceful, gentle, and above all else- emotional. He was willing to actually let himself die, just so that he could save a _villain_ no less. 

Lance knows that if he had been in Walter's situation up there, he would have taken Killian down with him- _no hesitation._

However, as it stands, it had been Walter falling from that dreadful height, and had then also tried to convince Lance to just _let him fall_ because he wouldn't be able to "do it on his own" apparently. Yeah, Lance was gonna have to have a nice long talk with the kid about self-preservation, because he'd already proved a danger to himself in a few short days.

Somewhere in Lance's mind, he'd just called himself a hypocrite. He told himself to fuck off.

Eventually Walter had begun to shift, and had very bashfully ventured a smile up at Lance, who had returned it with a genuine smile of his own.

Walter's smile grew wider, as he sat up and began to slightly bounce up and down on the bed excitedly- an action not dissimilar to a little child's.

Lance chuckled, and told him to calm down- or else he'd give himself motion sickness.

As a response, the excited young man stood up and began jumping from foot to foot while exclaiming: "This is the best day ever!!"

The older agent could only smile contentedly at his small, strange, son, and shake his head in disbelief.

Standing up, Lance bent over to fix the bed sheets, before beckoning for the enthusiastic scientist to follow.

The super-spy duo made their way down the corridors, and down the grand stairs to the kitchen. 

Racing ahead of Lance slightly, Walter had already made his way into the kitchen and sat down on a bar stool, kicking his legs back and forth excitedly while waiting for the older man to walk in.

Once more Lance shook his head, smiling happily. "I will never understand how you can have so much energy all of the time, kid."

Walter grinned even wider, and shrugged. "I guess I've just got a lot to be happy for, really."

The older agent walked over to the coffee machine, and placed a mug underneath it. "And it has nothing to do with caffeine? At all?"

The scientist tilted his head to the side, and made a thoughtful face. "Well, it might have something to do with coffee, but I don't drink it that often. I usually only drink it when I'm still at the lab at night."

Turning the coffee machine on, Lance raised an eyebrow. "So if you don't drink coffee, what do you normally drink then?"

Walter smiled proudly. "Tea! Or hot chocolate. it's usually hot chocolate."

Lance shook his head again. "That has got to be one of the most on-brand things you've ever said, Wally."

The young man in question cocked his head to the side again, and smiled in a strange- almost appreciative manner.

The super-spy was about to take a sip of his coffee, when he noticed the look on the kid's face. "What?"

Still smiling, Walter's eyes scrunched up into little crescent moons. "You called me Wally, again. No one's ever actually really given me a nick-name before."

Lance paused. "What? Like, seriously?"

Walter nodded. "Well, yeah. I mean- I got plenty of nasty ones, lots of insults. But no-one's ever given me a... an affectionate one, ya know? It's nice though." He went back to swinging his legs back and forth, smiling contentedly.

Putting his mug of coffee down, Lance walked over to the bar and took a stool next to Walter, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "What... what kind of insults did they give you? Were they... _you know,_ just kind of mean- or were they proper insults?"

The young man smiled sadly. "It depended, really. A bunch of the time it was just: 'weirdo this, and lame kid that.' But there was also a lot of really nasty ones, that I don't really want to repeat." He sighed, and then chuckled quietly. "You'd be surprised the kind of things people will say to a twelve year old."

 _Again, with the punch in the gut._ He sighed.

"That sounds... pretty rough, buddy. How'd you make it through that?" Lance felt like he wanted to track down a bunch of people, and break a few noses.

Walter shrugged again. "I had two options: make it through school, or die trying, you know? Which, when I put it _that_ way it makes school sound like the _hunger games_ or something..." He trailed of laughing. "...But yeah. I didn't have many options, and I guess I just wanted to see option number one through until the end- never know what kind of things I might miss out on seeing and learning, if I gave up now." He smiled tiredly up at Lance, and gave another half-assed shrug.

Lance carefully tightened his grip on Walter's shoulder. "Well, I'm glad you stuck around kiddo. I'm sure Marcy is glad too, things definitely seem a bit more... _vibrant_ with you around."

The young man smiled again, still tired, but there was a little glimmer of happiness shining through. "Thanks, Lance. That really means a lot." 

Lance released his grip on the kid's shoulder, only slightly, and told him: "and for the record, kid, if I hear about any of the people at work saying really shitty things about you, I'll make sure they don't get away with it."

Walter looked up at Lance cautiously. "oh uh, okay! I mean, that isn't necessary, but thank you anyway! Um, can you promise me you won't hurt anyone, though?"

Lance smiled softly at the scientist. "Sure thing kiddo, but only because you asked so nicely."

Walter beamed up at him, and quickly resumed looking around the room and kicking his legs.

Sensing that all is content, for now at least, Lance got up and went back to the coffee machine, and grabbed another mug for the kid.

"Hey, Wally?"

The scientist quickly looked over to Lance, beaming once more: "Yeah?"

Lance smiled in return. "You want a coffee too, kiddo?" 

Walter looked thoughtful for a second. "Yes please! Um, if that's okay?"

The older man chuckled, and placed the other mug under the coffee machine. "Of course it is, kid. I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't."

Walter smiled, and Lance went back to fiddling with the coffee machine. A few minutes had passed of the two talking happily over coffee and plans for the day, before Lance got a call from Marcy at work.

The older agent picked up his phone, his second coffee in the other hand: "Hey Kappel. What's shakin'?"

There was an audible groan from the other side. "Never say that again, Sterling."

Lance chuckled. "Noted. Anyway, what's wrong? Is everything cool down your end, or do you need back up?"

Walter leaned a little closer to Lance, seemingly trying to hear the conversation better.

Marcy gave a quiet chuckle of her own. "Nah, everything's good, was just calling to check in on you and the kid. Is everything alright over there?"

Lance looked down at Walter, who was currently about an inch from having his head resting on Lance's arm. "Yeah, everything's good, had a bit of an issue earlier on, but nothing too major for the kid and I to handle." As he said that, he affectionately ruffled the young man's hair, and Walter looked up at him with another bright smile.

Marcy gave a sigh of relief. "oh good, I was starting to get paranoid that you two may have somehow killed each other."

Lance gave a scoff of offence in return: "What on earth could you mean by that, Kappel? We're perfectly capable of keeping ourselves alive." As if on instinct of the knowledge that Walter's fluffy head was near by, Lance began to fuss with his hair again.

Walter happily chirped up in response to Lance's comment. "Yeah! We're excellent at that! Kinda..."

Both Lance and Marcy gave happy chuckles in response, and Walter beamed so hard that Lance was sure he was going to hurt his face.

Marcy spoke up. "It's good to hear from you, kid. How are you hanging in there?"

Walter shrugged, and rested his face on Lance's shoulder. "Eh, I'm hanging, that's for sure!"

Lance let out a soft laugh again, and once more fussed Walter's hair. "Yeah, he's definitely got his work cut out for him, he's currently the only one with a schedule for today!"

Marcy let out a false gasp of disbelief. "Lance! But that's a job for the adult to do!"

Walter let out a quiet whine. "Hey! I am an adult!! I'm 21 years old, thank you very much."

Lance looked down at him, only to be met by the pouting face of this 'adult'. "Sorry kiddo, but that's still not old enough to drink. So by default you're not an adult."

Marcy's laugh rang out from the phone. "Yeah kid, no alcohol, no adulthood."

The young man grumbled quietly to himself. "Now you guys just sound like alcoholics..."

The super-spy laughed in return. "Hey, when you get to our age, alcohol is definitely a friend"

The spy on the phone hummed in agreement. "Absolutely. You better pray you don't turn out like we do, Walter."

Walter scrunched his nose, and briefly buried it against Lance's arm. "Yuck, alcohol smells bad. It also smells like it tastes bad. My Grandma used to have bottle of something in her room, and I opened it to sniff it one day." He shuddered. "Never again. It smelled like some kind of cleaner!"

Lance began to pet Walter's head again. "you sure it _wasn't_ some kind of cleaner, Kid?"

Walter removed his face from Lance's arm, just to look up at him. "I didn't really want to find out."

The older man gave a hearty laugh, before talking to Marcy. "God, isn't he so precious?"

Marcy laughed in agreement. "Oh absolutely. Just a little sweetheart."

The inventor groaned again, and squished his face against Lance's arm once more. "You guys are meaaaan..."

Both Lance and Marcy cooed in response.

Walter felt his face heat up, and he let out another quiet grumble. "Hey Marcy, when are we gonna see you next?"

The spy in question hummed thoughtfully. "Hm, I could swing by after work tonight, if that's cool with you, Lance."

Lance patted Walter's head. "Yeah, that's absolutely fine. You might wanna bring some spare clothes though, just in case it gets too dark for you to leave again."

Marcy nodded in agreement, not that either of the other two could see it, though. "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind. That'll make me a little bit later, though."

Lance looked down at Walter, who smiled sweetly up at him. "Yeah, I don't think that would be a problem. I'm sure we could survive without our dear Marcy for a little while longer."

Marcy gave another chuckle, amused by Lance's antics. "Oh good, would hate to come back to find the both of you dead. Who else am I gonna complain about work with?"

Walter piped up again. "Eyes and Ears? You seem quite fond of them, too."

Marcy agreed. "Oh yeah, I guess you're right. Well in that case, you two can carry on and kill each other. I'll be fine."

The young scientist snuggled a bit closer to Lance. "Naw, that would be mean."

Lance looked down happily at his son figure. "You heard the kid, Marcy. That would be mean."

There was a quiet laugh from the other side of the phone, before the sounds of another conversation taking place on the other cut their own one short.

Marcy sighed. "Sorry boys, looks like I've gotta go. I'll see you both later though, so don't have too much fun without me."

Lance scoffed. "No promises."

Walter let out a soft laugh of his own. "How could we ever?"

That comment must of struck some kind of chord with the spy on the phone, as the smile in her voice was clear as day. "Alright then, see you boys later."

The two spies in question responded with varying goodbyes, before Marcy hung up.

Lance put the phone down, and let out a quiet sigh of contentment. The scientist lifted his head once more, looking up inquisitively at the older man. "You okay, Lance?"

The super spy smiled down at Walter, before gently brushing the young man's fringe out of his face. "Yeah, I'm good, kid. Now, how about we get started on some of these plans for the day, hm? It is 1 pm, after all."

Walter smiled brightly up at Lance, before jumping up and off his stool. "Sure! Let's get this bread!!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, here's me apologising for being so late with this update, but me also letting you know that I'm planning on getting *another* update out before Christmas. This one is out because I've been sitting on it for months, but I decided to finally post it because I felt so bad for not having posted anything! Also, thank you to every one of you who's left a lovely comment for me, and I'm so sorry to everyone who I haven't responded to, or it's taken me so long to respond to. Take care, all!!


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